Steven Saylor - Catilina's riddle

Cicero spoke against this proposal, saying that the only safe period of imprisonment for such men would be imprisonment for life, for which there was no precedent at all, and that the laws that protect the lives of citizens no longer applied to the men in question, 'for a man who is a public enemy cannot be regarded any longer as a citizen.'

Nevertheless, so persuasive was Caesar that Silanus himself equivocated, saying he had never meant to advocate death for the prisoners, for in the case of Roman senators such as Lentulus and Cethegus 'the supreme penalty' meant imprisonment. This was met with guffaws and cries of disdain from all sides.

More speeches followed, and it appeared that those present were deeply split between execution and banishment. Tiberius Nero drew cries of assent when he argued that no action as drastic as execution should be taken in the heat of the moment, and that to follow Caesar's course was best; nothing should be done without strictly legal trials, he said, and no clear judgments could be rendered until after Catilina had been either driven into exile for good or defeated in the field.

At this point Marcus Cato rose to speak. Though the transcripts do not record it, one can imagine a collective groan from the assembly. Marcus Cato was the self-styled conscience of the Senate, ceaselessly admonishing his fellows to uphold those stern moral principles he inherited from his famous great-grandfather.

'Many a time have I spoken before this body,' he began, 'and many a time have I reproached my fellow citizens for their spinelessness, their self-indulgence, their indolence and greed. By doing so I have made many enemies, but, as I have never excused myself for my own failings, I find no reason to excuse the failings of others. You know my sentiments. You have heard them many times before, and I see your eyes rolling up even now at the prospect of hearing them again. Men do not like being told that they have lost the virtues of their ancestors, especially when it is true. Our forefathers built this empire by hard work, just rule abroad, and integrity within this chamber. Today you pile up riches for yourselves while the state is bankrupt. Posts of honour that should be awarded for merit are sold to ambitious schemers. In your private lives you are slaves to pleasure, and here in the Senate you are mere tools for money and influence. The result? When an assault is made upon the Republic, there is no one here to defend it. Everyone stands around, trembling and confused, waiting for someone else to act!

'Over the years you have taken little notice of my admonishments.

You have shrugged me off and held fast to your reckless course. Fortunately, thanks to the sound foundation laid by our ancestors, the state has withstood your waywardness and has even prospered. Now, however, the issue at stake is not a question of morality, or whether our empire should be even grander and richer than it is. The issue is whether our empire is going to remain our empire or whether we shall lose it to our enemies! In such a crisis, what fool dares to speak to me of clemency and compassion?’

‘For a long time now we have ceased to call things by their proper names. Giving away other people's property is called generosity; seditious ideas are called innovations; criminal daring is applauded as courage. No wonder we've come to such a pass! Very well, let us be liberal at the expense of those who pay taxes, and merciful to those who plunder the treasury. But must we make a gift of our lifeblood to those who would murder us? Must we spare a handful of criminals, only to let them destroy good, honest men?

'We are advised to bide our time, to let our passions cool, to wait for a clearer perspective — while staring into the jaws of an abyss! We are urged to adhere to the letter of the law, to await a formal trial, to allow convicted men the option of exile — while the kindling is being stacked up around our houses! Other crimes can be punished after they have been committed, but not this crime. Nip it in the bud, or else it's too late. Let these traitors take over, and you can forget about invoking the law. When a city is captured, its defeated inhabitants lose everything. Everything!

'If you cannot be stirred to patriotism, then perhaps you can react to self-interest. Let me address myself to those of you who have always been more concerned for your expensive villas, artwork, and silver than for the good of your country. In Jupiter's name, men, if you want to keep those precious possessions that mean so much to you, wake up while there is still time and lend a hand to defend the Republic. We're not talking here about misappropriated taxes, or wrongs done to subject peoples. Here and now it is our lives and liberty that are at stake!

'We may react to this crisis with either strength or weakness. To show weakness would be the most dangerous course, for any mercy you show to Lentulus and the other prisoners is a clear signal to Catilina and his army. The harsher your judgment, the more their courage will be shaken. Show weakness, and like a pack of dogs they will swarm over you and tear you apart. Once that happens, forget about calling upon the gods for help. The gods help those who help themselves!

'Banishment? Imprisonment? What absurd half-measures! These men must be treated exactly as if they had been caught in the act of the offences they contemplated. If you came upon a man setting fire to your house, would you stand back and debate your reaction — or would you strike him down? As for the senator who argues for a lesser punishment — well, perhaps he has less reason to be afraid than the rest of us!'

This was a clear implication that Caesar was somehow connected to the conspirators, and those who sat around Caesar reacted with loud booing and catcalls, until Caesar himself stood up and engaged Cato in a heated debate on the merits of his proposal. Nothing new was said, and no memorable insults were exchanged until, while Cato was speaking, Caesar was handed a letter by one of his secretaries. He began to pore over it, drawing it close to his chest as if it contained a great secret Cato, apparently thinking it was a note from someone involved in the conspiracy, stopped what he was saying and demanded that Caesar read the letter aloud. Caesar demurred, but Cato vehemently insisted until Caesar handed the slip of parchment to his secretary and sent it across the aisle, saying, 'Read it yourself, out loud if you must.'

Cato snapped the letter away from the secretary's hand, held it up, and hurriedly scanned it. While the whole Senate watched, he blushed a purple to match the stripe on his toga. Caesar is said to have barely registered a smile while Cato, sputtering with rage, crumpled the parchment in his fist and hurled it back at Caesar, shouting, 'Take it back, you filthy drunkard!'

In the midst of a debate over life and death and the future of the Republic, Caesar had received a lascivious love letter from Cato's own half-sister, the wayward Servilia, a perennial source of embarrassment to the great moralist. Was this scene contrived by Caesar to discombobulate his opponent in the midst of the deliberations? Or did Servilia, pining away in her house on the Palatine and blithely unconcerned about the crisis that had paralyzed the whole city, simply happen to crave Caesar's attentions with an unusual intensity that afternoon? Even the most outlandish writer of comedies would never have dared to compose a scene of such pungent absurdity.

In the end, it was Cato, discombobulated though he may have been, who carried the day. The Senate voted to exact the supreme penalty on five of the nine prisoners. These included the two senators, Lentulus and Cethegus; two men of equestrian rank, Lucius Statuius and Publius Gabinius Capito; and a common citizen, Marcus Caeparius.